


Distracting Kisses

by hotot



Series: Now Kiss [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Romance, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 17:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10598733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotot/pseuds/hotot
Summary: Fixer's busy. Deacon doesn't care.~~~Tumblr kissing prompt: #18: kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing.





	

It was right there in his name. Fixer. Always fixing things. First he fixed the Minutemen, then the Railroad, then everything that was wrong with the Commonwealth. Okay, maybe Deacon was exaggerating a little. There were still bloodbugs and raiders they had to deal with from time to time, but things were as good as they got in the Wasteland, which meant Fixer had now turned his attention to smaller broken things, like firearms and water purifiers. And Deacon.

Fixer sat at a workbench, sorting odds and ends stripped from the junk he collected in preparation for building that new water purifier that Starlight had asked for. Deacon padded up behind him, making just enough noise that he wouldn’t spook. Fixer had always been a bit jumpy, but after the Institute, Deacon made doubly sure not to sneak up on his...boyfriend. The word still felt weird, sent his ears ringing. Heh.

“Hey you,” Fixer said, not looking up. His hands worked steadily to sort screws, nuts, bolts and washers into the correct containers. He paused a moment, holding up a funny shaped bit of scrap to the light, and Deacon leaned in to kiss the side of Fixer's neck, exposed as he tilted his head to the side to examine the find. 

Fixer’s hum felt warm against his lips and he paused a moment in his work. Deacon found his favorite spot behind his jaw, right under his ear and left another kiss, this one open mouthed. 

“Dee,” he hummed, squirming away as he tossed the bit of scrap into the discard pile. “I’m almost done. Can you—”

“Nope,” Deacon said. Such an orderly, practical person. Such a shame to have his work disrupted. 

“I’m—” 

Deacon leaned over Fixer's shoulder and caught his mouth, chasing the kiss. Fixer huffed through his nose, a little puff of air against his face and then he turned into his kiss, bumping the table with his hip. Somewhere behind them, a cascade of screws and bolts punked and skittered across the floor. Fixer groaned in either pleasure or dismay as Deacon nibbled his bottom lip.

“You’re what?” he said when he finally pulled away.

“Busy,” Fixer said. He was trying to suppress that dazed, sleepy-eyed smile he got from kissing, but judging by the twist of his mouth, Deacon was in trouble. “And now so are you.”

“Oh,” Deacon said, “I just remembered, Preston asked me if I could help—”

Fixer grabbed him by the collar as he turned to go and his mouth met his, hungry and smiling. 

“Nope,” he said against his lips. “Busy.”


End file.
